The Multitudes Within Me (Sequel to The Sound of Ice)

5

Someone's being beaten. Thick, dark blood is pouring from their mouth, their ears, from a gash on their forehead - they are limp on the concrete, and it is dark, and they are crying. They clutch their ribs, their voice screaming, breaking - they must be dying. They have to be dying.

At first I think it is Tom, and I move to help him - I thought I saw his favorite blue flannel shirt, saw the wrinkles on his face that caught in the dimming yellow street light - I shout Tom! but there's nothing but emptiness, I can't even hear my own voice - and then I realize it is me on the ground. I taste blood, sharp and tangy, like I just sucked on a piece of metal, and then I feel it everywhere.

"Sam, Sam - wake up. Wake up, man."

I gasp for oxygen. The taste of blood sticks to my throat, lingers on my tongue. I gag, rub my throat.

"You okay?"

I'm in my dorm room, and the lamp is on, and Pierce is sitting up in his bed. Reality comes in waves - there's no blood on me. The clock reads three in the morning. I'm in my dorm room. And the lamp is on. And Pierce is sitting up in his bed.

"You okay?" he asks again.

"Yeah," I say, my voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No, no, I was still up studying. You're good."

Clearly a lie. His books are closed and stacked on his desk. I breathe in deeply, throwing off the blankets and rubbing my eyes, ignore the shaking of my hands. "I'm sorry. Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Worse nightmare than normal?"

"Yeah, I guess it was worse than normal."

Pierce nods like he gets it, his face blank, understanding. "Sorry, man."

"No, I'm okay. I think - I think I'm just gonna take a walk, get some air."

"Sure. S'okay if I turn off the lamp?"

"Of course."

I throw on a coat and sneakers and head outside. It's dead silent and completely empty, and the cold air is refreshing and pure in my lungs. I walk until my legs aren't jittery, then sit on a park bench outside my dorm building. I feel a sharp pain in my ribs, then the iciness settling in my bones. I don't mind being cold. At least that pain is real.

I pull out my phone and go to speed dial. It rings once, twice, three times, four times - when I'm sure it's about to go to speaker, he picks up, his voice groggy. "Hi, Sam. You okay?"

Hearing his voice is like being punched. I rub my eyes, resting my forehead on my hand. "Yes. Hi."

"Nightmare?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Sam. You want to talk about it?"

"Cameron."

"Sam?"

"I don't want to talk about it, not really. Just wanted to - to hear your voice. Can you tell me about your day?"

"Sure. So we had practice this morning, which was good. Coach was tough on us, since we lost last night - Veronica came and watched yesterday, actually, since it was a home game and she was in the city that day for something - anyway, so he was hard on us, but we had a solid practice. And then after I went to the trainers, cause I have to tape up my shoulder, I told you about that - I went out to lunch with some teammates, and we tried this really good restaurant that has all these types of food. I had this chicken parmesan - my god, it was so good. You'd love it. Next time you're in Toronto, I'll take you."

"Okay."

He clears his throat. "And then the team had workouts in the weight room, and then I just came back to the apartment, and Josh and I played video games, and then I just watched movies until I fell asleep. And now I'm talking to you. And I miss you."

I run my fingers over my lips and glance up towards the sky. A handful of hazy stars shimmer down. "I miss you too." My breathing has steadied - I feel it. I bet he can tell too. I hate that I woke him up, since I know he's exhausted all the time. "How's - how's Tom?"

"He's doing really good, Sam." His voice softens even more than it already was, and tears spring to my eyes. "I went home a couple weeks ago, and he seemed to be holding up. I mean, tired, but holding up. You don't need to worry. We're all taking care of him, okay?"

"Okay."

"How's school?"

I sit on my hands and shiver, a chilly breeze rubbing against my skin. "Oh, it's fine."

"I know you're doing great. You're a genius."

"Not really."

Cameron sighs sleepily into the phone, and so many emotions seize up inside of me I don't know what to do with myself - love, and guilt, mainly. "I'll let you sleep," I say.

"No, but I like talking with you..."

"I'll call you later. You should sleep."

"You should sleep too."

"I will." I probably won't.

"Goodnight, Sam. I love you."

There it is, that punch in the gut again. I rub my face, pressing my fingers into my forehead like I can massage out the hurt. "I love you too," I say, then hang up before he can hear my voice cracking.

Before going back to the dorm, I stop by the bathrooms and splash water on my face. Really, it's not so bad that I woke up this early. I have a lot more studying to do. At least there's that.

A/N poor sam :(